North of 49
by CdnJAGScribe
Summary: (1999 started fic) Nanoose Bay Weapons Testing Facility, British Columbia – a joint-operated Royal Canadian Navy – United States Navy weapons testing facility has been compromised by protesters and a group of disgruntled Royal Canadian Navy personnel attempt to abscond with a 5Kt SUBROC – This is an AU of an AU - (Animal has not been yanked off flight status)
1. Chapter 1

"North Of 49"

Author: Haruo Nakamura

E-mail: hhNakamura

Rating: M

Classification:

Spoilers: N/A

Summary: (1999 started fic) Nanoose Bay Weapons Testing Facility, British Columbia – a joint-operated Royal Canadian Navy – United States Navy weapons testing facility has been compromised by protesters and a group of disgruntled Royal Canadian Navy personnel attempt to abscond with a 5Kt SUBROC – This is an AU of an AU – wrap your mind around that. Animal has NOT been yanked off active flight duty in this AU (of an AU).

DISCLAIMER: The characters Harm Rabb, Jr., Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie, Meg Austin, AJ Chegwidden, Bud Roberts, Harriet Sims-Roberts et al. belong (in concept if not name) to CBS/Bellisarius. Animal and all OC characters are the property of Heather and Toshio Nakamura. No profit is being made from this story, nor is any infringement intended.

* * *

_**JAG HEADQUARTERS FALLS CHURCH, VA, MAY 31, 1999, 1730 ZULU**_

"Lieutenant Commander Rabb, Major Mackenzie, a word with you..." the Admiral walked past the offices heading towards his own office.

"Yes, sir." Lieutenant Harmon Rabb Jr. and Major Sarah Mackenzie replied in unison as they looked at each other wordlessly and followed Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden into his office.

"Rumor has it, that the Province of British Columbia has been seeking to strong-arm the weapons stock-piles located at the weapons facility in Nanoose Bay Weapons Test Facility." Admiral Chegwidden said." It seems as though we may have an international incident on our hands. The Canadian Federal government has ordered the Nanoose Bay seabed to be annexed, but the facilities themselves are on British Columbia soil and could be annexed by the British Columbia provincial government."

"Is this a legal matter, sir?" Mac asked, wondering what this would have to do with the JAG Corps."I would think that the State Department would have more to do with this than JAG."

"Hi, Rabb...Mackenzie." came a very familiar voice. Mac rolled her eyes as she realized just exactly who it was. She looked over and damned if she wasn't right.

"Webb..." Harm growled in disgust, "What's the State Department gotten itself into this time?"

"Well, just that we need a quiet JAG investigation into the going-ons at the Nanoose Bay Weapons Facility. CINCPAC has asked for JAG's top investigators and well, your names came to the top of the list." Clayton Webb looked at Harm and Mac who had identical expressions of distaste in their eyes. He continued. "It is a Naval facility jointly governed by the Canadian Navy and the United States Navy, so hence your names were submitted to SecNav."

"Defence Secretary John Weisman has asked that you see what is going on at the facility. You are to obtain the appropriate papers for travel to a foreign country. And you will be asked to register yourselves in the nearest United States Consulate for diplomatic visas which would be in Vancouver, then report to CFS (Canadian Forces Station) Jericho Beach to hop the nearest helicopter to Vancouver Island."

"Oh, just lovely..." Mac said sourly. "Well, that does give us a good excuse to go visit Canada, right?" she aimed that comment sarcastically at Webb.

"It just so happens that your favorite friend, the nutcase, is over in Comox for Maple Flag, right now..." Webb looked at his itinerary, "Or is scheduled to be deployed to Comox, British Columbia right now."

"Well, at least we'll know someone there..." Mac sighed. Harm just groaned; his day wasn't about to get any better or so it seemed at the particular moment.

_**VF-41 BLACK ACES SQUADRON, MAIN BRIEFING ROOM, MAY 31, 1999, 1830 ZULU**_

"Burrows, how many times do I have to tell you?" Captain Toshio Nakamura, callsign Animal, growled at his long-time 'friend' or more like annoyance, Lieutenant Philip 'Metalman' Burrows. "You don't shoot down a bogey...without ID'ing it first and making absolutely sure it's a bandit. You damned near knocked off a Hummer two weeks ago at Fallon and the Wallbangers CO hasn't stopped yelling at me. Jesus Christ, Metalman!"

"But it was just a training exercise and I hadn't fired a missile in so long of a time. I was starting to get rusty. Besides, the Hummer was in my target zone. I was going after the drone." Lieutenant Burrows whined, the expression on his face simply annoying the hell of out Animal.

"Don't...Don't start...Burrows. When you talk, I get annoyed, and when I get annoyed; me and annoyance do not make a good combination." Animal snarled. "Just don't do it AGAIN...Understand?"

"But, sir..."

"Burrows, what part of N-O...don't you understand?"

"Uh, the N part, or the O, I never really could get..."

"Shut up, Burrows, Just shut up..." Animal shook his head and looked for something light and lethal to throw at him. "I want you to safe every thing on your aircraft. Understand? When we go to Maple Flag...I don't want anything unauthorized coming off your rails or your damned aircraft and that even means oil drops don't FALL off your aircraft without prior orders to the affirmative." Animal glared at him malevolently. "If they do, I'm going to make you maintenance officer on a garbage scow in Portland!"

"Yes, sir, understood, sir...would you like me to call the moving van? Sir?" Metalman grinned an infuriating grin.

"A moving VAN? What for?" Animal gave him an incredulous look of disbelief.

"Well, sir, you don't want falling parts and other assorted paraphernalia falling off the aircraft so I presumed the safest method of transport for this particular aircraft would be via moving van, sir." Metalman explained; he still had the aggravating grin on his face. Animal counted to ten-million, grinding his teeth. It was all he could do to keep from exploding,

"Metalman...you're very ingenious in your methods of keeping the needs of the Navy ahead of your own, however in this particular case, NO. You will fly the aircraft, you will restrain yourself from accessing the trigger mechanism in your aircraft to your numerous weapons, no matter how appealing it would be or how particularly rusty you may get in your skills. The Navy and its very loyal personnel follow orders without questions, without second guessing, and no matter how much you may consider the senior officers to be cluster-fucked idiots, you will follow orders to the letter, do you understand what I am trying to tell you or is this floating past your ear-drums at a very rapid rate without appropriate comprehension?" Animal looked amiable, the calm visage belied the fact that at any particular moment, the captain could explode.

"Is this a multiple-choice question?" Metalman blinked, his face as innocent as he could make it.

"I said, do you understand what I am saying, you little INSIGNIFICANT WORM!" Animal erupted in a ear-splitting bellow. "JUST SHUT UP AND DON'T TOUCH THE FIRING MECHANISM ON YOUR WEAPONS IN YOUR AIRCRAFT!" Animal thundered. Metalman was inspecting the wall to see if there was buckling in the bulkheads from the sound-waves of the exhortation. "ARE YOU LISTENING, BURROWS!?"

"Yes, sir..." Metalman knew automatically, that he had pushed the CAG as far as was tolerated by his Commander of Air Wing Eight. Any more aggravation and Animal would quite possibly demote him for insubordination.

"And wipe that damned grin off your face. I'm getting sick and tired of looking at it." the CAG's voice was a whiplash.

"Uh, one question...sir." Metalman asked, as deadpan as he could make his face appear.

Animal cringed inwardly as he said..."What is it...Burrows." It was more a tired statement than a question

as if he didn't want to hear the question (which he really didn't, but that's besides the point).

"When are we supposed to be at Maple Flag, sir?" Metalman asked; an _in the clear_ question.

Animal sighed in relief. Sometimes it was aggravating to have a conversation with this particular officer who seemed to be hell-bent on driving him insane. "In two days. We leave tomorrow at 1000 ZULU."

"How many of us are going?" Metalman thought to ask.

"Six crews including you, myself, Maegyn, Kimber, Spud and Wolf and our RIOs. Does that answer your question?" Animal said.

"Yes, sir..."

"Dismissed."

Metalman nodded, and about-faced to exit the room. Animal growled, "Hey, Metalman..."

"Yes, sir..."

"When we get to Maple Flag..."

"Uh, sir?" Metalman stopped amount and half-turned to look questioningly at the CAG.

"Kick some ass up there..."

Metalman nodded as he grinned back at Captain Nakamura "Yes, sir..."

_**VANCOUVER INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, VANCOUVER, BRITISH COLUMBIA, CANADA, JUNE 1, 1999, 2030 ZULU**_

Harm and Mac collected their luggage at the ground floor International Arrivals Level and immediately headed for a taxi when a man in a suit stopped them with a "Lieutenant Commander Rabb, Major Mackenzie." Many people had stopped to stare as United States Navy and Marine Corps uniforms were uncommon in Canada. United States military personnel were allowed to travel in uniform since they were going to a friendly country, just hopping across the longest undefended border was a simple flight or a car ride.

"Yes..." Harm and Mac turned to face the hailer. The man looked like a non-descript diplomat. Owlish features and a sharp beakish nose completed the picture of a ground-hugging, boot-licking diplomat, whereas that notion was quickly dispelled by the grin that the diplomat displayed.

"Lieutenant Commander, Major, I hope that you had a nice flight. I'm Chris Medley...with the United States Consulate in Vancouver. We have a ride for you over to the Consulate building. Your visas are being processed by the Canadian Consul and should be approved by this evening. Did you happen to see the sights in Vancouver?"

"Sorry, never been here before." Mac replied.

"The closest I've ever been to Vancouver is to Bremerton." Harm commented remembering an investigation he had undertaken with Meg and Kate, "It's not a great memory, if you get what I mean."

"I know..." Mac laughed at Harm's expression of distaste, "Kate and Meg told me about it. I don't think you ever want to get close to one of those suit-case bombs again...do you."

Harm snorted derisively. "Yeah...whenever I feel the urge to end up becoming a lantern without lightbulbs required, I'll think about visiting Bremerton again." The drive to the United States Consulate on West Pender Street was very quiet, but scenic, if one called going up Granville Street with 6 lanes of traffic and numerous buildings scenic.

Mac inquired,"So, did Animal ever tell you about Vancouver?"

"Hmmm, not much. Just that he was happy that he was in the States and a US Naval Aviator. I guess he doesn't reminisce much about this place any more. Don't know why, it's pretty nice. He was born in New York, but he spent an year up here in Canada with some distant relations" Harm replied casually glancing up at the tall buildings and noting just how relatively small the downtown core was in comparison to DC.

"There are nice places around here..." the consulate bureaucrat stated as he mentioned Mission, Maple Ridge, Pitt Meadows, Ruskin." This is urban sprawl, but when you get out into Maple Ridge-Mission area, it's lovely rural countryside."

"Maybe we should get Animal to show us around some of the places that he's been. He must have had some experience with the locale but it may have been forgotten. It has been a while since he was here last." Harm suggested. "Of course after we finish up this investigation and after they finish up with Maple Flag."

Mac sighed as she relished the thought of doing just that; the countryside was an especially heart-warming view for her. After years of living in the city and rarely getting a chance to go for a real honest-to-goodness vacation in a rural setting, it would be panacea for the soul. The plain-clothed Marine security at the consulate was a stark contrast to the uniformed guards at the different embassies around the world. In any case, this was symbolic of how relaxed the consulate was around Vancouver. Harm and Mac's uniforms were sharp contrast to the comfortable atmosphere that pervaded over the United States Consulate.

The Head of the Consulate welcomed them to a private office, "Well, the British Columbians seem to feel that any warship of the United States Navy carrying nuclear weapons in this area is a violation of their nuclear-weapons free zone. Now, we all know that the Nanoose Bay Weapons Testing Range is a jointly governed military installation. Both the Canadian Armed Forces and the United States Navy use the installation to test their conventional weapons. We have clearance to test our SUBROC and ASROC nuclear tipped anti-submarine stand-off weapons system, however, we do not like to test them here due to the diplomatic fallout that would more than likely happen." Harm raised his eyebrows at the pedantic tone the diplomat was taking. As if the Canadians were some sub-species of human beings.

"Do you still test them with conventional warheads?" Mac asked.

"Yes, we do. We still have the Mk. 46 homing torpedo which we have used on numerous dummy submarine targets that we have planted along the Strait of Georgia seabed. We have had relative success with the warhead, but lately we have been having more and more demonstrators in rubber dinghys stray purposely into the testing site and we have had to tighten security at the range."

"How have you usually tried to keep the demonstrators from entering the restricted area?" Harm queried the Consulate officer.

"We've usually kept them out by megaphone. But they are starting to get braver and venture in between patrols. We have asked however for a test of a W55 warhead in the area..."

"Which is...?" Mac looked at the Consulate officer sharply.

"A nuclear tipped depth bomb, which we are planning on testing."

"And what is its yield?" Harm asked.

"It's a five kiloton weapon."

Harm and Mac looked blankly. The diplomatic officer continued, "It has a destructive range of over 8 miles."

"And how wide is the Strait of Georgia..." Harm asked another probing question.

"It's about 50 miles." the diplomatic officer replied.

"So, you're planning on irradiating about one-sixth of the width of the Strait of Georgia." Mac interjected, her tone cold, "I don't blame the British Columbites for getting ticked off."

"Columbians..." Harm interrupted, his face deadpan.

"Excuse me?" Mac asked.

"British Columbians." Harm replied."That's what residents here are called."

"Oh..." Mac said."Really..." she gave Harm a sarcastic look as if to say, 'Alright smarty-pants.'

"Yes, really..." Harm grinned at Mac." So, sir..." he returned his gaze to the diplomatic officer,"what would you like us to do."

"I'd like you to go over to Nanoose Bay and find out what is going on over there. I've heard some strange goings-on over there and I'd like to know what exactly is going on." the diplomatic officer said.

"And who do we report back to." Mac didn't like this being shuffled off to do whatever for the time being.

"Me...I'm Cliff Menzies with the Foreign Service." the man stated perfunctorily. "And now, Lieutenant Commander and Major...I believe you two have a hotel room to stay in and your diplomatic visas should be approved by morning. You'll be catching a UH-1 Helo over at CFS Jericho Beach. Enjoy your stay in Canada." Harm and Mac looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

_**NANOOSE BAY NAVAL TESTING RANGE NANOOSE BAY, BC, CANADA, 0325 ZULU**_

Canadian Armed Forces Navy Sub-Lieutenant Mark Evan Myers grinned as he looked over the latest supply sheets. The US Navy was bringing in an SUBROC W55 warhead. Which meant that security was to be tightened up at the Naval Testing Range facility. After 10 years of being in the Canadian Armed Forces Sub-Lieutenant Myers, Royal Canadian Navy, wanted out. He hadn't had an exceptional conduct record but that still didn't keep him from being refused his resignation until 15 years service was completed. He was locked in. His friends in the military were feeling the same way. After 10 years of service, the Canadian Armed Forces should be able to let him go. But they had insisted that he serve out his full term of service. This new wrinkle in his desire to get out left him embittered and grasping at straws on how he could be induced to leave the service early.

Sub-Lt. Myers looked over the spec sheets of the SUBROC weapon. The SUBROC was a depth bomb, but it also had a remote detonator which meant that it would possibly be able to be remotely detonated, depending on what the safe mechanism would be. He had been waiting for just the right opportunity. He knew that the yield on the weapon was 1 kiloton, and had a surface blast radius of 4 miles. The diameter of the devastation would be at least 8 miles if used underwater. He picked up the phone,"This is Sub-Lieutenant Myers, I'd like to have Master Corporal Severn, CPO 2nd Class O'Grady, and Master Seaman Davids in my office immediately."

"Yes, sir." the assistant said. The one thing Sub-Lieutenant Myers liked about this assistant was that he didn't ask any unpleasant questions. He just did as he was ordered.

_**A FEW MINUTES LATER**_

As the ranks filed in, Sub-Lieutenant Mark E. Myers growled, "I want you to shut the door."

"Yes, sir." CPO O'Grady said as he hastened to comply.

"This is classified information. The Americans have decided to test-detonate a W55 warhead on a SUBROC in the Strait of Georgia. I want you to keep your eyes and ears open. I want to grab that weapon. It's a chance that we won't get again. Gentlemen, our retirement investment is here..." The smiles on the faces of the conspirators, if anyone else could see, were chilling.

_**VIRGIN RECORDS, BURRARD STREET, VANCOUVER, BC, CANADA, 2245 ZULU**_

_**AN:**__Back in 1999 Virgin Records was still on Burrard Street in Vancouver_

Harm and Mac, almost bored out of their minds, trudged wearily through the enormous record shop, as they awaited confirmation that their diplomatic visas were approved. "You know. I've never been in a Virgin Records store until now." Mac observed dryly as she looked at the three levels located in the store. "Movies upon movies, CDs upon CDs...how many more items can they cram into a store?"

"I don't know, any more and they wouldn't have space to move around." Harm muttered as he stepped around a pair of Japanese exchange students who were busy discussing in loud Japanese about how good a particular movie was or whatever the heck that they were talking about. Their backpacks seemed to extend into the aisle and block about three quarters of it. "Excuse me." he said as he slipped past. "What time is it..." Harm thought to ask.

"2250 and 14 seconds ZULU, 2:50 Pacific Standard time, now 21 seconds..." Mac replied instantaneously.

"Did I ever tell you that you could possibly work for a automatic time retrieval service?" Harm quipped. "Once you get out of the Marine Corps, that is."

Mac grinned at him and replied smugly, "Now why would I do a thing like that? Get out of the Marine Corps, that is."

"Didn't think so, but you know, it's always nice to have a second career planned" Harm replied as Mac shot him a rather dour look.

"Once a Marine, always a Marine, Harm." Mac replied as she picked up a video on Guadalcanal. Mac's cell-phone rang. Eyeing it she saw the ROAM feature on. 'Surprise that it even worked.' she thought. "Major Mackenzie." she said.

"Major Mackenzie." Senior Diplomat Cliff Menzies' voice was clear though the cellular connection. Ah the wonder of electronics. Menzies did not elaborate other than to say,"Your diplomatic visas have been approved."

"Great..." Mac said, and hung up. "At least we can now get out of here." Coaxing Harm from looking at a movie in his hand, she convinced him to drop it and get out of there.

Harm and Mac found the escalator and headed up to the main floor of the Virgin Records store. Finding the Burrard Street exit, they hailed a north bound taxi to the US Consulate.

_**2320 ZULU **_

Upon retrieval of their diplomatic visas, they headed towards CFS Jericho Beach. This was in the West Side of Vancouver near the University of British Columbia. The diplomatic envoy's vehicle stopped in front of the green and white building of the Canadian Armed Forces Station and let them off. The Canadian Armed Forces Jericho Beach detachment was a small base with about a thousand personnel. It was even very lightly guarded. Anyone could get on base and off without being hailed or stopped. Harm just shook his head. Security was very lax in Canada. If one tried to get onto a military installation in the United States, one got one or two hails almost immediately and if one didn't stop, they got a 5.56 steel-jacketed round between the second and third ribs on the left side.

Harm and Mac walked up to the front desk. "Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Jr, and Major Sarah Mackenzie, US Navy/Marine Corps JAG." Harm and Mac flipped out their IDs at the officer at the front desk.

"Yes, sir." the Master Corporal at the desk replied as he punched a button on a telephone,"Sir? Two JAG officers are here to see you."

"Yes, I know...The US Consulate advised me, send them in."

"Commander Rabb?"

"Yes..."

"Major Kevin McDonough will see you now."

Harm and Mac were ushered into a room where a man sitting down in a desk wearing a light blue Canadian Armed Forces shirt and a greyish-blue set of pants sat. The shirt was offset by blue epaulets with two and a half gold braids on each along with the requisite gold embroidered 'CANADA' lettering. The man had an aquiline nose and dark brown eyes, and his black hair was cut short and was slicked in a casual way across his head. His uniform was kept crisp and neat and there was an air of professionalism about him that Mac instantly detected.

"Major Kevin McDonough, I presume?" Mac asked as she introduced themselves to him. "Major Sarah Mackenzie, United States Marine Corps, and…" she gestured to the tall officer in service blues, "Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb, United States Navy.

"Yes, Major Mackenzie." Major McDonough said, "We have a Huey ready to take you to Comox...the pilot should be warming up the engine right now. I presume the United States Navy sent you here to figure out what was going on?"

"Yes, Major." Harm replied this time for Mac who was busy looking at the numerous paintings of Canadian Armed Forces aircraft depicted on the wall. "They did. Of course, though we're not too sure as to what is going on over there. Hopefully you might be able to enlighten us as to what the problem is…"

"Well, isn't that just great." Captain McDonough grinned, "Well, the Department of Defense just asked me to be your guide. We'll be catching that Huey very shortly so I hope you have your gear packed and ready. Nanoose is not really that suited for dress blues and all that, so that's why we're offering you lodgings at CFB Comox. Hopefully you have your khakis in a separate bag. We can lock up your gear over here."

Harm didn't really care for that idea, but given the fact that conditions over in Nanoose Bay would probably not do good things to his uniforms, he reluctantly acquiesced, handing his uniform bags containing his other uniforms to the Master Corporal who had miraculously appeared out of thin air.

_**HELICOPTER PAD JERICHO BEACH DETACHMENT JERICHO BEACH, KITSILANO VANCOUVER, BC CANADA 0015 ZULU**_

"This is Lieutenant Pete Burns..." Captain Kevin McDonough yelled, as they hustled over to the helicopter, over the noise of the rotors turning, "He'll be flying us over to Comox. From there we will go over to Nanoose Bay to check the situation out.

"Great..." muttered Harm, "Did I ever tell you that I hate helicopters?" he muttered to Mac.

"C'mon Harm, Let's go." Mac smiled sweetly at him. "Oh it's only when the million parts stop working that you have to worry…besides these things are just like our UH-1s back home."

Harm glared at her and rolled his eyes. "Give me an F-14 anyday." complained Harm as he reluctantly got into the Bell CH-146 Griffon which was the Royal Canadian Air Force's equivalent to the Bell UH-1. The helicopter lifted off as soon as Capt. McDonough sat down.

_**CANADIAN FORCES BASE COMOX, COMOX BC, CANADA, 0015 ZULU**_

"Fast Eagle 101, Comox Approach, VFR landing clearance Runway three zero." Animal radioed, clipping his MBU-14 to his HGU-33/P flight helmet.

"Roger that, Fast Eagle 101, Say your type?"

"Roger, Fox One Four."

"Welcome to Comox, Fast Eagle 101...Cleared for runway three-zero" Comox Tower radioed back.

Metalman was flying 'welded wing' all the way in. The two Tomcats touched down almost simultaneously. The six F-14s, once on the ground, taxied over to the main tarmac and shut down. They were instantly eyeballed by a bunch of Canadian CF-18 Hornet jockeys.

"Say, dose are a nice set of wheels." the lead CF-18 jockey by the name of Captain Lucien DeLarme, who had a slight Quebecois tinged accent.

"Thanks." Animal commented casually as he walked by accompanied by his fellow F-14 pilots.

"Mebbe, we could…buy a flight in one of dose Tomcats..." Capt. DeLarme asked.

"Yeah...how much you got?" Metalman retorted.

"Er...fi-teen do-llars..." The Canadian Forces fellows hooted with derision.

Animal turned to them and said, "Sorry, If you had two million, then we might be able to start negotiating. But fifteen bucks, sorry, save it and go buy yourselves a Labatts Blue..." he still remembered that much from an year of living in Canada with some relatives that he could barely remember. He preferred Coors or Guinness.

"You know that we know Canadian terrain a lot better than you Yankees." One of the others grinned. "Heck, I flew with the Snowbirds. Nothing beats flying over Cold Lake, inverted."

"How about in-to Cold Lake, inverted..." snorted Kimber.

Metalman guffawed derisively, "They know Canadian terrain...Ha ha ha...I'd hope so." He snickered at Spud, "Nothing like a farmer's wife waking up in the mornin' to find a stray CF-18 in her back yard...'uh, say, do you know which way Cold Lake, Alberta is...EH?'"

"Hardy har har, Yankee...you know we're gonna kick your asses." the Canadian CF-18 pilot replied.

Animal grinned ferally at the Canadian fighter jock, "We'll see...about that, won't we?" he shot the Canadian fighter pilot a harsh look. It was just about that time that the Canadian fighter pilots noticed the silver embroidered eagles on the shoulders of his flight suit, and their brains equated the silver eagles meant 'higher rank'.

Their combined shocked and amazed looks were comical as they stood up straight. "Sorry, sir." they chimed as they stood at attention.

"As you were..." Animal said; as he snickered at the younger RCAF aviators. Young cocky attitudes tended to get people killed and he'd been a squadron commander long enough to know that if they didn't keep a tight squadron, the young bucks would keep planting themselves in the dirt. Hopefully their Lieutenant Colonel would keep a tight rein on them. The fact that they were one of the elite squadrons in the Navy, if not the best, was the tradition of the Black Aces. As the first F-14 squadron to get kills, the onus was on them to keep up the standard of excellence. The Canadian pilots were no pushovers, and hence the U.S. Navy sent their best squadron to compete against them. As did the USAF with their 555th FS now flying the F-16Cs. The US Marines sent the VMFA-314 Black Knights with their F/A-18Cs. This would be an all out mock war. No holds barred. Animal knew that they would be flying from Comox to Cold Lake. The engagements would take place over Cold Lake, but it would make it seem like a carrier air strike, if they departed from Comox every day of the Maple Flag contest. The Aggressors were to be based at CFB Cold Lake. The other aircraft of Blue Force were to be based at CFB Comox. "Let's note that this exercise is training. Don't get hot-headed." He looked at both the US and Canadian aircrews. Maegyn stepped to his side beside him. "This is the VF-41 Black Aces Commanding Officer. Commander Maegyn O'Bannon. She'll be one of the two flying circles around you guys."

"YES SIR!" the crews chorused.

"The other…will be me." Animal growled ominously causing several members of the Canadian Armed Forces to gulp. "On my six." Animal barked at the Black Aces that were standing around him. "Let's go see if they've got some accommodations for us.

_**CANADIAN FORCES BASE COMOX, COMOX BC, JUNE 2nd, 1999, 0115 ZULU**_

Harm and Mac were sequestered separately in barracks at CFB Comox, due to the fact that there were not many quarters available over in Nanoose Bay Weapons Testing Facility. The rooms were dark, dank and the furnishings consisted of a bed with painted steel railings and it reminded Mac of her boot-camp days.

"At least we have hot water..." Harm said consolingly.

"It gets shut off at 2200." Major McDonough replied. Mac groaned.

Mac stated, "Well, we saw your quarters, let's go see mine. Major, now where is the Visiting Officer's Quarters for females." she asked.

"Well, we don't seem to have any right now...you'll be in the same Base Officer's Quarters as every other female officer." Major Kevin McDonough replied.

"Oh, goody..." her tone implied that she wasn't too pleased.

Just then they heard, "Hey, Animal, I told you that Pinky was the retarded mouse and Brain was the one with the big head." Mac looked curiously at Harm as Harm shrugged his shoulders. Harm recognized the voice as that of Lieutenant Phil Burrows. Who knew what Metalman was talking about anyways.

"Look, Burrows, I don't give a flying shit about which bloody character is what...do you think I'm of the age that I still watch cartoons? Considering I'm older than you by about a decade" Animal's voice sounded rather cheesed off as it rang down the hallway. Just then they saw two khaki-clad pilots walking past Harm's bedroom door.

"Hey, ANIMAL..." Mac said cheerily.

"Mac, what you doing here?" Animal's cheery voice returned the hail.

Major Kevin McDonough saw the face of his old school buddy looking at him. He gazed upon his friend's face that he hadn't seen in a long time. Animal had lived up in Canada for about a year, going to school, with some distant relatives of his and he had made friends with a Kevin McDonough who was about two years younger than Animal. "Tosh?" he asked hesitantly. He looked at his friend's khaki collars with eagles on them. Animal was higher rank than him. But then again, the Royal Canadian Air Force promoted a hell of a lot slower. After working radar at Tinker for some time, Kevin had recognized US military insignia. "Is that you?"

"Kevin?" Animal exclaimed as he took a closer look at the RCAF officer. "Kevin McDonough?"

"Yeah..." Kevin replied.

"Long time no see, buddy..." Animal said, grinning at him as he extended a hand to shake his friend's hand.

Noticing Mac and Harm, Animal grinned, "So, Harm, this guy causing you grief?"

"Nope..." Kevin interjected.

"I wasn't asking you...Kevin..." Animal replied. It was at this point that Kevin noticed the silver eagles on Animal's collars. His brain synapses clicked in and he noticed that the silver eagles represented Captain, two ranks higher than Lieutenant Commander and Major. "Harm thinks that he might be getting a raw deal on this room...there's gotta be something better than this piece of crap room that he has to share with a bunch of low ranking fuzzbutts." Animal looked at Major McDonough.

"Sir?" Kevin replied."You mean you out-rank me?"

Animal just nodded subtly, the shock on his friend's face was enough amusement for one day. "Hey, you're a Major, right...Kevin, surely you can get him a room that's decent, whattaya say?"

"I'll see what I can do...uh..."

"Tosh, just call me Tosh...like old times..." Animal replied. "Except when we're in uniform in company of superior officers."

"Let me see what I can do..." Major McDonough departed the room very quickly.

Animal shut the door. "So, Mac, you wanna tell me what's going on?" he asked quietly.

Mac rolled her eyes as she said, "I could never keep a secret from you, could I..."

"Asian intuition...ya gotta know that already, Mac..." Animal grinned.

"Well..." she looked meaningfully at Metalman. Animal knew immediately what Mac was implying.

"Hey, Metalman, go buy yourself an ice-cream cone...or something..." Animal ordered Metalman.

"I'm not really all that hungry right now..." Metalman objected.

"Disappear...Metalman..." Animal growled ominously, a hint of steel in his voice.

Metalman took the hint and got lost. Mac said, "Animal, we have a big problem. The British Columb-ians..." she shot a meaningful glance at Harm who looked innocently up at the ceiling, "want to annex Nanoose Bay Weapons Facility."

"I heard mutterings about that..." Animal said, "My great-aunt always sends me newspaper clippings in her CARE packages."

"Newspaper clippings?"

"Yeah, newspaper clippings..." Animal said, "Y'know, from the local newspapers, the Province, the Sun..."

"Oh...I thought they were tabloids..." Mac said.

"Naw...just the Province looks like one. The Sun actually looks like a regular newspaper..." He held up one. Emblazoned across it was a big head line reading "PREMIER TAKES HARD STANCE ON NANOOSE" It was the Province.

"Oh, just great." Mac said. "A local newspaper and I pass it off as a tabloid." she muttered.

"Look, you're going to have to read the paper up here to find out what the atmosphere is like. You're dealing with civilians and I can't give you much of a hand. I've got a group of flyers up here and an dissimilar air combat training exercise to run between Cold Lake and Comox and I'm going to have work up to my ears." Animal remarked. "You're on your own on this one." Harm and Mac looked at each other. "What else aren't you telling me?" Animal growled.

"Yeah…there is something else…" Harm uttered looking over at Animal. "But it can't leave this room."

"Spit it out." Animal levelled an annoyed look at Harm.

"We hear some disgruntled RCN personnel are going after the next SUBROC that's coming into Nanoose Bay. It's absolutely confidential information. Classifed Top Secret." Mac stated

"Shit, do you have a pile of crap on your hands now…" Animal muttered. "How the fuck do you manage to get yourself into these things?"

"I don't know, but it seems more common nowadays." Harm retorted looking disgustedly out the window. "You know. Today started out by getting hauled into the room and being commandeered by a spook."

"Webb again, huh?" Animal muttered.

_**NANOOSE BAY WEAPONS FACILITY, NANOOSE BAY, BC, JUNE 2, 1999, 1125 PST**_

The USS Kincaid (DDG-965) sliced calmly through the waters as it approached the dock. The US Navy sailors waiting on the dock for the ship to moor, were only noticeably noisier than the heavily armed United States Marine guards who were also on the deck. The W55 was a potent weapon and security measures were high. The Marines were under an order to shoot to kill if anyone other than authorized personnel even made one step onto the pier.

SSGT Mike O'Callaghan was the Marine security team's leader and he held his M-16A2 at port arms as he kept an eagle eye on the dock. There was no way that he was going to allow anyone a crack at this warhead. It was too dangerous of a weapon. But other plans were in motion, other plans that included the use of this warhead.

But right now, all SSGT O'Callaghan wanted was a nice beer and a warm bed. He gazed out over the calm waters of Nanoose Bay and the small dock that the USS Kincaid had docked against. It was going to be an interesting two week deployment here at this little Canadian test range.

* * *

_**AN:**_ _This fic is an alternate universe of an alternate universe where Animal doesn't get yanked off active flight status when he receives the MoH. This is in the Meg/Animal universe. _


	2. Chapter 2

_**CFB COMOX, COMOX, BC, JUNE 4, 1999, 2135 ZULU**_

"ARE YOU STUPID...DO YOU NEED GLASSES? DO YOU NEED A BRAIN TRANSPLANT?! DO YOU KNOW HOW STUPID YOU ARE!" The plate glass rattled in the temporary office that VF-41 was assigned in CFB Comox as Animal read Metalman, Skateratz, Spud and Wolfman the Riot Act. "DID YOU REALIZE JUST HOW CLOSE YOU CAME TO CAUSING AN INTERNATIONAL INCIDENT?!"

"Well, sir, it wasn't our intention of causing that stampede…" Wolfman replied meekly. Spud was Wolfman's driver. Animal glared at Spud, silencing the hapless naval aviator's oration, the CAG's menacing expression like a thundercloud counting down the seconds till all hell would break loose.

"Mr. Rankin..." Animal's voice was an ominously quiet growl." The hard-deck for that hop was Angels Six. What the hell were you doing down in the brush? COUNTING GOPHERS!?" If the four of them hadn't been locked at the position of attention, ears straining to hear the previous sentence, the CAG's thunderous last two words would have definitely caught their attention. As it was, they were deafened by the volume of the CAG's bellow.

"There were about six thousand five hundred and seventy one of them, by my count, sir..." Metalman eagerly volunteered, tacking the _sir_ on as an afterthought to keep from having the CAG contact the Judge Advocate General to draw up a charge of insubordination. Skateratz groaned knowing that Metalman just couldn't shut up. He wasn't made that way and he had a tendency of bringing the _wrath of God _or was it the _wrath of Animal_ down on their heads. "Or was that six thousand five hundred and seventy two?" _Oh, God, wouldn't he shut up_? Skateratz winced as he realized just what Metalman's inability to leave his mental thoughts unspoken had wrought. _Oh, dear God in heaven, I forgot to get a set of earplugs…my ears are going to be ringing for the next week. _And of course, the Commander, Carrier Air Wing Eight didn't disappoint.

"SHUT YOUR HOLE!" roared Animal loud enough to rattle the bulkheads – Skateratz was certain that the windows oscillated in their settings, "Mr. Burrows, the next time I see you flat-hatting…your wings of gold will be decorating MY DESK! You're grounded for the next two hops. And Mr. Kelly, Mr. Rankin, Mr. House and Mr. Burrows" He glowered at them as though they were scum on the surface of a lavatory commode, "...you will write a formal apology for your actions to Cold Lake's Commanding Officer, who will forward it to the aggrieved parties. Am I MAKING MYSELF CLEAR!?" he boomed, the sound ringing down the hallways to the amusement of all those not involved in the instigation of said cattle stampede.

"Yes, sir..." They all replied in chorus; just grateful that the sound of Animal's voice didn't have the kinetic force to peel the tops of their skulls off, scramble their brains inside their respective cranial cavities and slam the tops of their craniums shut.

"DIS-MISSED!" Animal roared loud enough to be heard over the sound of a C-17 taking off; the four were sure the windows rattled. They about faced and walked out, just as Mac and Harm walked in.

Pulling out a pair of earplugs, Metalman, who just couldn't keep his mouth shut, snidely said, "Uh, you might wanna pick another time of the month to bug him...he's in that way again..."

"SHUT THE HELL UP! BURROWS!" Animal thundered…making two CAF Lieutenants walking past the open door jump out of their skins.

"Aye-aye, sir..." Metalman chose the better part of valor and disappeared before Animal could pick something light and preferably lethal to throw at him.

Mac smirked at Animal "Exercising your vocal cords again, sir?" she asked as she observed the rather cheesed off expression plastered across Animal's face.

"Yeah...those four dummies caused a cattle stampede..." Animal groaned as he sat back down in his chair. He rubbed his hand across his forehead and groaned again thumping the heel of his hand against his forehead.

"Cattle stampede, in the air?" Harm asked disbelieving what he had just heard. But then again, in the few years that he'd known Animal's irreverent subordinate, he wouldn't put it past Metalman to pass up anything that would give his superior officer a migraine.

"Yeah...they were out there in their F-14s shaving the grass, evidently spooked the cattle as they were out grazing in the fields; caused a major stampede that took four hours for the ranchers to contain. They had two casualties due to legs in gopher holes and had to put them down. CAF had to reimburse them for the cattle and sent us the bill – looks like the whole squadron is eating steak tonight." Animal snorted derisively; more at Metalman's faux pas rather than the potential international incident.

"Went below the hard-deck, sir?" Harm queried Animal.

"Yep...those idiots never learn." The naval captain muttered as he tossed a look at Harm, rolled his eyes and stated. "Commander Rabb?"

"Yes, sir..." Harm chose to go formal.

"A bit of advice...Stay a Lieutenant Commander..." Animal declared as he leaned his head down looking in his borrowed desk for some Gravol. He knew with the length of Maple Flag that he would more than likely need some; especially since he had Metalman in the group.

"Uh, sir?" Harm asked confused at the seemingly conflicting statement.

"If you have to put up with a bunch of comedians like these, you'll wish you remained a lieutenant commander." Animal said glowering at the door out of which the two fighter crews had left. He went over and shut the open door. He then turned to the two JAG officers, "So, any more news on the weapon's test?"

"Not lately, sir..." Harm replied.

_**NANOOSE BAY NTF, NANOOSE BAY, BC, CANADA, JUNE 4, 1999, 0800 ZULU**_

Sub-Lieutenant Myers, Royal Canadian Navy, glanced quietly at his U.S. camouflaged compatriots. Adorned with ID's indicating clearance, which were doctored up, by Myers, the sixteen man team had armed themselves with Colt C7 assault rifles. Sub-Lieutenant Myers had a degree in computer science, and had managed to hack the security clearance code in order to enter in sixteen names into the security rotation. Having commandeered a Humvee, they maneuvered over to the security compound containing the warhead. Sub-Lieutenant Myers was wearing a pair of scammed United States Navy Lieutenant Commander insignia on the collars of his camouflage fatigues. "Time of the change-over, Jenkins..." he asked looking over at the dock with a pair of binoculars.

"0830 ZULU, sir." his compatriot replied as they looked over at the securely guarded compound. They could see six guards armed with M-16s monitoring inside the entrances while a jeep armed with an M-60 mounted on a roll-bar stood guard outside the entrance.

"What time is it now?" Myers asked.

"0820, sir..."

"OK, let's do it."

The insertion of the new security team had been seamless thus far. The guard at the gate waved them by with a perfunctory, "Have a good shift, sir..." not even noticing any discrepancy in their uniform or in their military bearing. No alarm was sounded and the change-over went smoothly and the new guards were inserted into the regular rotation.

"I want to check the warhead." Myers said as he looked over at the previous security team leader as they came up to the weapons shack.

"Warhead is secure, sir..." the Marine first lieutenant replied.

"I said, Lieutenant, I want to see the warhead..." Myers replied as imperiously as he could.

"Yes, sir." the previous security commander said. 'Navy officers were weird', he thought, 'they want to know that everything is secure.'

The Marine First Lieutenant brought Myers and his cohort into the room containing the W-55 warhead. "You see, everything is secure, under lock and key, the case is pressure sensitive. If anyone tries to move the case, without proper deactivation of the security measures, it will cause the warhead to deactivate, permanently, rendering the weapon useless." He looked over at the Navy Lieutenant Commander or at least he believed that the person in front of him was a US Navy Lieutenant Commander.

"How sensitive?" Myers asked, ensuring that he kept up the persona but tensing just slightly just in case the cover fell to pieces.

"If you try to pick it up..." the Marine began.

"What about if you accidentally jostle it..." Myers interjected "I understand that if you pick the case up it'll deactivate. Just wanted to make sure that we don't accidentally trigger it or deactivate it or the higher-ups will be extremely pissed off at us."

"No, sir...the case is designed to take a certain amount of jostling." the Marine replied. "It's a very tight space in here."

"Thank you, Lieutenant..." the Marine 1st Lieutenant was told, as Myers and his men took over the duties of the guards replaced.

"Have fun...sir..." the Marine replied as he exited. Myer's cohort watched him leave carefully, his hand down by his sidearm.

"No problem." Myers replied as he knew that the Marine was out of hearing range. As soon as the guard rotation had ceased, Myers radioed his top code cracker. A state of the art computer was at the hacker's disposal and he was able to track down the digits of the protective case and the weapon arming and de-arming sequence. "Gentlemen, we're in business..." Myers stated 45 minutes later. The guard rotation would be changing in about 3 hours. It was time to get "the hell out of Dodge."

_**NANOOSE BAY WEAPONS TESTING FACILITY NANOOSE BAY, BC, CANADA JUNE 5, 1999 1200 ZULU**_

The military jeep that housed the weapon trundled along the road as it headed towards the ferry. They had managed to get off the base disguised as a military ground exercise. "Wheweee..." crowed one of the men, "What a retirement. You think Ottawa will pay us for the weapon?"

"No...I intend to go one further..." Myers said contemplatively.

_**WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM 1600 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE WASHINGTON DC 2400 ZULU**_

Just after dinnertime was when the shit hit the fan. General Omar T. Whylie II, of the US Marines 1st Division was just sitting down with a MacDonald's Big Mac and large order of fries and Coke, when the Coded Message came through from Naval Weapons Test Facility Nanoose Bay.

*******FLASH TRAFFIC******

*******FLASH TRAFFIC******

PRIORITY ONE

BROKEN ARROW

The shit definitely flew. A US Navy admiral barged into the room accompanied by a certain individual in the CIA. Commander Rochelle Gardner groaned as she recognized the individual. 'oh, god, it's Webb' she muttered to a young female Marine Lieutenant Colonel accompanied by another male Marine Lieutenant Colonel. The spook didn't hear as LCol Elsa Botterill snickered.

"Where is the weapon?" CNO Admiral Kelly Garrett barked. "What happened to the security team?"

"They've all been questioned. They said that they were properly relieved by another security team. As far as the warhead is concerned, it could be anywhere. Presumably it was heisted for monetary gain."

"Who was there...out of the Navy JAG team?"

"Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. and Major Sarah Mackenzie." Was the response.

"Any chance that they might know exactly what happened?" Webb managed to mention.

Admiral Garrett snorted, giving Webb a dirty look. This particular thorn-in-his-side had been around for a while. "Look, Rabb and Mackenzie don't have a clue as to what happened. They were only aware of what was going on with the expropriation plans by the Federal Government of Canada. That is all that they have been sent to investigate."

"Admiral...I'd like your assets in the area on this investigation."

Admiral Garrett glowered at the CIA agent. "OK...I'll inform them...of the situation...after I communicate with the Judge Advocate General."

"We need the situation rectified as soon..."

"DON'T TEST MY PATIENCE!" Admiral Garrett roared at Webb. The vehemence in his voice caused the CIA man to step back two steps. 'It is because you forced the Canadians to allow us to test the weapon in

Canadian waters that this came to a head. Now we have a missing nuclear weapon that could possibly be used against us. HOW MUCH MORE ARE YOU GOING TO SCREW UP!? THIS IS NOW A MILITARY MATTER SO SHUT YOUR GODDAMNED HOLE!"

"I'm going to have your stars...Admiral..." the CIA man sullenly acknowledged.

The Admiral snorted. "Yeah, yeah...whatever you say...now get your sorry ass out of here..."

_**OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE HEADQUARTERS, NATIONAL MARITIME INTELLIGENCE CENTER, SUITLAND, MARYLAND, JUNE 7, 1999, 2135 ZULU**_

Lieutenant Meg Austin-Nakamura looked at the file on her partner's desk. "So...what's happening?" she asked her partner in the Office of Naval Intelligence, Lieutenant Joanna Martinez.

"Broken Arrow." muttered Joanna who had her nose buried in the file.

"oh…shit...of all the..." Meg uttered. The likelihood of an honest to goodness Broken Arrow was negligible and the fact that Joanna had uttered anything about it startled the hell out of Meg.

"Excuse me...ladies...are we interrupting anything?" the two startled officers turned as one to see two female officers in whites with very gold encrusted shoulder-boards.

"No...MA'AM!" the two lieutenants snapped to attention.

"As you were..." replied the other admiral who they knew as Vice Admiral Miriam Westerlake, their commanding officer. "This is Rear Admiral Donna Chan; Deputy Commander, Office of Naval Intelligence. She will be giving you orders to the Naval Weapons Testing Facility at Nanoose Bay to investigate the theft of the W55 warhead.

"Oh, joy-joy..." Joanna muttered to herself, under her breath. All she said was "Aye-aye, ma'am."

Meg on the other hand was looking forward to this. She had known her husband was in Comox at a Maple Flag exercise. Maybe she could meet up with him. But she had her questions. "Ma'am...Is there a particular reason why we're being sent there. I noticed that there were 2 JAG officers already on site. Is there a particular reason why we should be sent..."

"To augment them, Lieutenant." VADM Westerlake replied, "Meg, your computer skills are second to none. Someone hacked into the defence department computers to access the arming and disarming codes on the weapons. We need your skills to find out how they did that, and we need your skills to hack out the codes that they may have changed on the weapon."

"Aye-Aye, ma'am..." the lieutenant commander replied, "I'll do my best..."

"Meg...do more than your best...These guys may think about holding an entire city ransom."

"Aye-aye...Will do...ma'am." Meg replied. This was not looking good. "In any case, is there a NEST team on standby?" she asked.

The admiral didn't give her much to hope for as she shook her head. "The closest one that we have is based out of Seattle…and if something goes down. There won't be much that we can do. FBI has it's Foreign Emergency Support Team on standby of which the DOE NEST team will join them. But until we are assured that this is an actual emergency situation, we will not deploy."

Meg was incredulous. They would be put in danger just to act as the canary in the coal mine? After the impromptu meeting, the flag officers left, and the two young officers were left looking at each other wondering just what the hell happened to their sedate day. "I guess if we go, we may glow…" Meg muttered under her breath. "How the hell did I sign up for this?" she complained to her co-worker.

"Well, that's a great start to a week." A yeoman knocked on the door. "Ah...I guess the tickets for our rides are here..." Joanna said wryly as she took them from the yeoman.

"And I was looking so fondly to going home, running a hot bath and relaxing tonight..." Meg said sarcastically as she looked over at Joanna. "You packed?"

"Yep...always keep my stuff in the back of my car."

"Great idea..." Meg explained to Joanna as she reached for her briefcase. "My husband does the same thing. I got into the habit of it myself. Don't tell him...I borrowed his Mercedes." she grinned brightly.

"You're kidding? He can afford a Mercedes?" Joanna grinned back at Meg..." On a captain's salary?"

"He does a good job of saving..." Meg grinned as she picked up the briefcase and they both headed for the elevator.

"Good night...ma'am..." the yeoman by the front desk said. "On assignment?"

"Yep...going on vacation to Canada...see ya in a week..." Meg replied flippantly, knowing full well that this was not going to be anything like a vacation in the broadest sense of the word, as she headed out the door, the door swinging behind her as the two officers headed for the elevator. But she realized that being where her husband was was worth any price.

"Really...a Mercedes..." Joanna's voice was incredulous as they reached the elevator.

"You sound disbelieving..." Meg grinned. "He doesn't get out much..."

"Ah...compensation..." was the knowing reply.

"Well...why don't we go directly to the airport..." Meg suggested as they headed for their cars – Meg would leave hers with the Master at Arms. "I think we can catch the first flight out from Dulles to Victoria, British Columbia." She sighed heavily. "I'm not looking forward to the red-eye arrival at Victoria International, though." Looking over at the car, she said to Joanna, "I hope the car will be alright left here, because if it's not, I'm not going to hear the end of it from my husband." As they settled in the car, Meg pulled out her IBM Thinkpad, a rather big and clunky laptop. "Even if we do get to the airport on time…I think it may be about another five hours before we can actually catch a flight to Vancouver and from what I can see…we end up having to catch a connection through Toronto. We're booking on short notice." The Air Force could fly them out direct but it would be more noticeable than if they just flew on a regular commercial flight.

Looking over the file as Joanna drove, Meg said. "Ramzan Kadyrov is in charge of the pro-Moscow militia that controls Chechnya. Evidently there has been news that a group of Chechens opposing his rule have made their way to Vancouver via Vancouver International Airport's domestic connections from Grozny to Toronto, then by connecting flights from there to Vancouver. I have no idea what they are doing in Vancouver…but it doesn't look good."

"I think it's pretty obvious…" Joanna replied as she looked over at Meg. "I would suspect a hand-off."

Meg paled as she realized the ramifications of that statement and the previously noted _Broken Arrow_ and her blood chilled. If there was an incident, they'd be at or near ground-zero and depending on the prevailing winds... She didn't have to speak the rest of her thoughts as she saw Joanna's dawning understanding of the desperate situation they were in.

_**A BARN, MAPLE RIDGE, BC, June 7, 1999, 2246 ZULU**_

"Look, Aslambek...I have what you want..." Myers looked over at the squat Chechen sitting in the corner.

"The item...it is intact...yes?" The Chechen replied as he looked over expectantly at Myers.

"It's perfectly fine, not a scratch...One of your guys wanna take a look at it?"

"Yes...we will inspect the item before we pay..."

"The price...it just went up, Aslambek..."

"That was not originally a part of the bargain...my friend..." The threat in the tone was palpable as he reached for his jacket. The man accompanying Myers moved his jacket aside to show his FN Hi-Power. The Chechen nodded, he knew that if he reached for his Makarov that he would be shot.

"There were risks...the price you quoted doesn't cover the risks...My friends and I want to be compensated well, for the risks we incurred." Myer's voice was ominous.

"What is your price..."

"30 million, take it or leave it." Myers looked at the Chechen with a cold stare daring him to object.

"We will inspect the item and then we shall see...about the 30 million." The Chechen said,

"Don't even think about double-crossing us...Aslambek." Myers looked at him, nodding to the side to indicate his partner who held a Colt Canada C7 rifle pointed at Aslambek.

"Would I ever...how you say...double cross you...my friend."

"We'll see." Myers replied. "For us, this is a business transaction. After this, I haven't heard of you, nor will I remember your name."

"Dzhamal, _inspect the weapon…see that it is indeed as they say it is._" Aslambek barked at Dzhamal in Chechen. Ši mostagh cxhana txov khеl ca tarlo. (Two enemies cannot live under the same roof.) _they have shown us that there is no solidarity amongst thieves._" Turning to Myers he said. "When my partner here has finished inspecting the weapon, then we will discuss payment – not before."

"As you wish…" Myers commented unobtrusively, but Aslambek knew that was just a ploy to put them off their guard. He had dealt with too many black-market transactions to be fooled by some assumed air of innocence. He also had several other people around the perimeter watching the Canadians, covering them with AKMs. Likewise, he probably knew they were under cover by other Canadians with assault rifles of their own.

_**CFB COMOX, COMOX, BC, JUNE 7, 1999, 2332 ZULU**_

It was just after 4PM Pacific Standard Time when Harm got off the phone with RADM AJ Chegwidden and turned to Animal. "It looks like ONI is in on this case too. I don't know what for…but evidently they're looking at something that's classified out the friggin' wazoo. Higher than our clearance…that's for sure."

Animal looked inquisitive at the revelation. "Any chance…" his look was hopeful…Mac observed knowing full well that Animal wanted nothing more than to reunite with his wife – call this a mini-vacation. Between the two of them, they were extremely busy and quite a bit of the time, Meg wasn't at home. Their reunions were passionate. But on a case like this, an ONI Lieutenant would have to defer to the Naval Aviator O-6 CAG under strict regulations except outside of duty hours off-base…in a hotel.

"According to VADM Westerlake who has been in contact with the admiral, your wife and another ONI Agent are on their way to Victoria right now. They'll be in Comox at 7AM tomorrow morning…" Harm replied gratified that he could give Animal some good news for a change. "They'll probably be bagged since they're going to be flying a red-eye into Victoria tonight."

Mac indicated. "I don't know if there's a hotel at Victoria International that they can bunk at until they can catch a Canadian Forces helo into Comox."

"There probably is one. She's resourceful enough to find it" Animal commented looking at his watch, "But I'm not going to worry about anything until she gets here. Then we're going to have more to deal with than we ever wanted. I'm sure the shit will hit the fan big time, if ONI's involved."

Mac rolled her eyes. "Sure I can't go home?" she asked sarcastically.

"Probably not…" Harm replied, silently wishing that he could go home too. But they were supposed to rendezvous with ONI in the morning and find out what was bringing them to Comox. This had turned from a simple negotiation to a problematic situation involving the Office of Naval Intelligence.

_**A BARN, MAPLE RIDGE, BC, JUNE 7, 1999, 2336 ZULU**_

"I am afraid that we cannot let you go so easily as you will divulge the information of our acquisition too easily." Aslambek stated, swiftly drawing his Makarov as the thirty eight man team of Chechens moved in from the surrounding forest to surround the small team of sixteen men that Myers had with him. "You will come with us or you will be shot. Drop your weapons."

Myers looked around at the fifteen other men that were with him. With thirty eight men covering them with AKMs, there was no way that they could shoot it out and survive. Slowly they pulled their weapons out, making sure the Chechens knew that they weren't about to do a last-ditch OK Corral shoot-out and put them on the ground.

"Come with us...now…" Myers was roughly shoved towards a GMC 4500 Cube Van. The Chechen who ushered him to stand by the back of the van motioned one of the other men forward. "Open door…" he barked pointing the muzzle of the AKM forward and ushering the man to do his bidding with short sharp jerks of the muzzle in the direction of the handle of the cube van. The man got the gist of the gestures and moved towards the handle, grasping the handle and twisting so that the _snik_ of the latch release was heard. Three thirty-six in the afternoon and the mid-afternoon sun beat down on the backs of the men who were lined up behind the cube van. Once the door was fully up, the Chechens shoved them in the back of the cube van and brought the door down leaving them in blackness. To their utter alarm, they heard a snick of a lock on the back door locking them in. Banging on the back door did nothing to attract outside attention. They were stuck in there until someone got them out or they died from lack of food.

Aslambek told the men to gather the device and he looked at his hand-held device which had a countdown display counting down the time. The ten pounds of C4 would level the cube van quite efficiently and considering how far they were away from the human population in the area, the explosion would probably be attributed to someone blowing a tree-stump out of the ground. He had remembered to get one of the group with fluent English to call it in to Maple Ridge City Hall that they were looking at dynamiting a tree stump and he had gotten the necessary permits – an minor irritation, but at least it would delay anyone investigating the explosion. In sixty minutes they would be far enough away from the explosion that no one would connect them to the blast.

_**INTERNATIONAL TERMINAL 3; WASHINGTON-DULLES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, WASHINGTON D.C. JUNE 7, 1999, 2339 ZULU**_

Meg uttered a curse under her breath. The next flight from Dulles to Toronto's Pearson International Airport was at seven o' clock or 0200 ZULU but what else could they do but purchase the ticket. They had to get to Victoria somehow. "Well, what are we going to do for two hours and twenty minutes?" Meg asked Joanna who shrugged her shoulders. "You hungry?"

"I'm sure I could eat something." Joanna replied looking at her ticket. "At least if we have dinner, we won't have to tolerate the disgusting airline food on the Toronto to Victoria leg of the trip. We can estimate 7:10 departure from the gate and 7:20 before we get in the air."

"You think we should try to get some sleep on the plane?" Meg thought to ask.

"No, it's just going to end up making our switch over to Pacific Time harder in the long run and we have to be alert." Joanna indicated the case folder that Meg was holding.

_**INTERNATIONAL TERMINAL 3; WASHINGTON-DULLES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, WASHINGTON D.C. JUNE 7, 1999, 0145 ZULU**_

When the call for boarding was announced, it startled Meg and Joanna and they got up with their carry-on bags on rollers. They had switched over to civilian clothes so that they could travel incognito into Canada. It wasn't long before they were boarded and in their seats. And as Joanna had estimated the plane was in the air by 0220 ZULU and it was a short flight only a little more than an hour long from DC to Toronto Pearson putting them on the ground by 8:33PM and on the airport terminal concourse at 8:45PM. Then they would have to wait for 9:15PM before they could board their flight to Victoria, BC. That particular flight put them at nearly 11:30 before they managed to grab a taxi for a quick ten minute drive to their hotel for the night across British Columbia Highway 17 at the Victoria Airport Sidney Travelodge.

_**VICTORIA AIRPORT SIDNEY TRAVELODGE, SIDNEY, BC JUNE 8, 1999, 1300 ZULU**_

Meg heard the alarm go off and groaned. Joanna and she had managed to get a room with two queen sized beds to save money. It would have cost double to bunk in separate rooms. And VADM Westerlake would growl if she heard about the expense budget going over-board. From there, they had to find a way of getting to Comox. Evidently, there was an Air Canada flight on a DeHavilland Dash 8 that would get them there in an hour; she'd booted up her computer and gotten online to check the Air Canada website. Joanna was in the shower and quickly got out so that Meg could get her morning ablutions dealt with. Coming out of the shower fifteen minutes after going in, damp hair cool in the morning air, Meg rapidly dressed in US Navy khakis. When both of the officers had dressed in khakis they gathered their luggage together and brought it out to the curb while they waited for a taxi that they had called from inside the hotel room.

"Well, one more flight and we'll be over in Comox." Meg said. "I'll be glad to get there. Those seats are putting a crick in my back."

"You're telling me…" Joanna complained as she massaged the base of her back while they were waiting on the taxi to arrive . "This morning I felt like someone jabbed a knitting needle at the small of my back…one that had been heated in lava."

A 1998 Toyota Camry, painted a nice shade of blue with a white TAXI sign on the top of the vehicle, pulled up to the curb. "You wanted a taxi?" the driver with a Eastern European accent called out. On the sides of the vehicle which Meg could see, was emblazoned a red stylized shield with a bluebird doffing a top-hat and the letters Bluebird Cabs Ltd. below the bluebird – the BLUEBIRD name in a custom font and the last two in what appeared to be _Arial_.

"Yes…to the airport?" Meg responded as she smiled sociably at the driver.

"So where I take you…terminal?" the driver replied as he got out of the car to help the women with their baggage.

"The terminal would be fine…" Meg and Joanna got in the back seat and the driver locked the doors and pulled away from the curb. The cab did a run down Patricia Bay Highway (Hwy 17) and took the off-ramp at MacTavish Road roundabout pulling onto Canora Road which then turned into Willingdon Road. A roundabout at East Saanich Road; which they went through, to continue on Willingdon Road brought them within sight of the airport. It wasn't more than six minutes from the time they left the hotel to when they pulled up at the terminal building and the driver stopped the cab and exited to pull the luggage out from the back trunk of the cab after payment. Meg pulled out a purple currency bill and a blue currency bill and paid the driver. She said keep the change.

Joanna asked, once the taxi pulled away, "How did you know what to pay? This currency looks like monopoly money!"

"My husband spent a year up here in Canada, but back then the bills were weird looking but the same color as now, so he showed me the current Canadian currency on-line and told me to memorize it." Meg replied. "And occasionally when he's on leave, we go visit Toronto to see the CN Tower and to Niagara Falls. The Canadian side of the falls is gorgeous."

They loaded their bags onto a cart and shoved said cart in the main departures entrance door to the terminal building. The size of the airport was that of a US regional airport. It was nowhere near as big as Washington-Dulles. And they looked around at the sign-boards wondering which airline would take them to Comox, BC. The Air Canada counter was right in front of them and judging from the destinations; they could see the destinations and Comox was on the list. Walking up to the counter and pulling out her credit card, Meg and Joanna paid for their Canadian domestic flight to Comox Valley Airport. When Joanna asked about what kind of aircraft they would be flying on, she was told that the flight would be on a De Havilland Dash 8. The departure time was scheduled for 8:30 AM and they would be arriving in Comox at 9:40 AM.

_**OFFICER'S MESS, CFB COMOX, COMOX, BC, JUNE 8, 1999, 1323 ZULU**_

Animal carried his breakfast tray to the table. The Uniform of the Day for the visiting United States naval officers was full service khakis with ribbons. Animal's rank insignia: eagles canted at a 45 degree angle, the arrows in the talons parallel with the point of the collars, were polished to high-gloss sheen which shone in the fluorescent lighting in the messhall. The six rows of ribbons on Animal's were all nicely arrayed on his khakis as he strode with confidence through the full mess as members of both Canadian Forces and visiting officers sat mingled eating their breakfasts. Of course several gazes of other officers strayed to his rack and seeing the blue ribbon with five small white stars caused several jaws to drop open. He tried to ignore the looks, and it was the main reason why he preferred wearing his flight suit but bags weren't allowed in the mess-hall and thus he had to don his peanut butters.

Major Kevin McDonough, RCAF, looked up to see him stride over. "Grab a seat, Animal." He motioned the USN Captain over. "Heard that you gave some of your guys the third degree; so did you come up with a bag of smashed assholes?"

"Naw…" Animal replied as he dug into his morning repast. "…just one idiot…that tends to create headaches for his squadron-mates."

"So, why don't you get rid of that chuggernuts?" Chuggernuts was a CF term for an idiot in uniform as Major McDonough explained when Animal gave him a confused look.

"Naw, I'll keep him. He may give me a headache, but compared to what Harm had to go deal with back in the fleet, he's not too bad. I've seen worse."

"So what's on the menu today? Have you talked to the TOCroaches?"

"Yeah, we're supposed to do an exercise against Red Flight CF-18s out of Cold Lake tomorrow, today's a down day so that we can get a sitrep on the exercise. We're using Comox as a forward base with the "

"Y'mean the twin-tailed plastic fag jets?" Animal burst out laughing at McDonough's acid comment. FAG was a military slang term for Fighter Attack Guy with the perjorative as an acronym.

"Well…you're looking kinda pale, scope dope." Animal grinned back at Kevin who gave him a look of mock affront. "Makes the relish suit stand out." Referring to Kevin's CADPAT BDUs. Kevin was glad that Animal used the CF term for CADPATs and didn't just refer to him as a REMF (rear echelon motherfucker). Kevin had heard worse though: _glow-DART, scope-worm, AERIES FAIRIES, DEWLINE Dipshits. AWACS gollums – _referencing their pale complexion from sitting in the dark looking at glowing screens.

_**VICTORIA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, DEPARTURES LOUNGE, SIDNEY, BC, JUNE 8, 1999, 1530 ZULU**_

The Dash 8 was a noisy plane. The incessant drone of the rotors was audible even through the supposedly sound-dampened cabin of the aircraft. The sound surprisingly lessened as the pilot spooled up his engines to take-off speed. But the sound still permeated the cabin like a dentist drill or an oversized mosquito. Meg and Joanna spent their time looking out the window. They were seated on the right hand side so it was easy to see the Strait of Georgia in the right hand window as the aircraft droned on a heading northwest. About an hour later at 9:30AM, the aircraft touched down on runway 30. Coming to a halt at the Comox Valley Airport Terminal, the two US Naval officers debarked from the Dash 8 to find out that they were greeted by two Royal Canadian Air Force Captains. They were hustled into a LSSV, which one of the RCAF Captains laughingly referred to it as a Milverado, on the tarmac and hustled over to the Canadian Forces Base portion of the Comox ramp.

When the "Milverado" stopped at the base headquarters building, the four officers got out and headed in. "Lieutenant?" the RCAF Captain looked puzzled, looking at Meg's Caucasian face – Meg didn't bother explaining; it was none of the RCAF Captain's business. "Nakamura?" the JAG officers have been brought over to meet you." The one RCAF officer said. "Also one of our JAG officers will be coordinating with you as well. Colonel Campbell wants to make certain that the Canadian Forces are kept apprised of the situation."

"Well…" Meg replied. "That appraisal will subject to our JAG and confidentiality. This is a classified matter."

"Yes, Lieutenant, we are aware of that."

"So you do understand that we are very wary of apprising our allies on this matter when it could potentially cause a security leak." Joanna interjected. The two Royal Canadian Air Force captains ushered them to a room and left them.

About fifteen minutes later Harm, Mac and a Canadian Forces JAG Major entered the room. The Canadian JAG officer, a navy officer stated. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Carole Blaise. Royal Canadian Navy, Judge Advocate General." Harm noticed that Carole pronounced her rank _Leftenant Commander_. "Since our Office of the Judge Advocate General is combined, we have Judge Advocates from all three branches of our Canadian Forces in one department. JAG is not split up as separate services branches in the United States. I specialize in International and Operational Law. I report to the DJAG who is a Royal Canadian Air Force officer who is in command of all aspects of international and operational law. He reports to the JAG who oversees our entire operation."

"Lieutenant Commander Blaise." Meg stated. "As a member of the Office of Naval Intelligence, I have to consult with my CO to find out what I can or can't tell you. If there are any particulars that are highly classified, then I will not be able to mention anything."

LCDR Blaise, RCN didn't look too pleased about that, however she regained her aplomb and stated. "Well, we will get in touch with CFIC (Canadian Forces Intelligence Command) and receive our information from them. We have boots on the ground from that command as well and I'm sure that we can coordinate something." She paused, smiled a slight bit frigidly and continued. "…a mutually beneficial exchange of classified information, perhaps. I need to go speak with them right now." She nodded stiffly and headed out the door. Meg got up and closed the door behind the exiting CF officer.

"That was pretty chilly, Meg." Harm said. "I think I got frostbite."

"Well, Harm. Let's face it. We don't want to let them know we've got a Broken Arrow situation instigated by their people – a few disgruntled can't hack it types and now we've got a missing weapon as a result." She refrained from using the term _nuclear_. With the upheaval in Chechnya…" Meg stated severely, "The Chechen rebels who are defying Kadyrov's iron fist has sent a group of rebels into Canada to find some way of creating a diversion and getting others into the fight."

Harm looked at her. "You're not serious." He turned to Mac who had turned completely pale.

"Yes, Harm, we have an Empty Quiver" Meg destroyed his hopes that it was just a simple misplacement of a nuclear weapon, her blue eyes locking gazes with Harm. This was serious, not just some prank of _misplace the atomic weapon and hope that it turns up_. It was an honest-to-goodness theft.

"Oh…dear God…" Mac breathed, her eyes wide with fear.

Lieutenant Joanna Martinez stated, her demeanor deadly serious. "Major, Lieutenant Commander. None of this leaves the room, nor is spoken about to anyone else. This is highly classified. An Empty Quiver is a serious threat to the United States…and anyone will be charged with capital treason under the UCMJ if you even utter one word about it." The naval intelligence officer placed both hands on the table and leaned forward. "If the weapon falls into the hands of terrorists, we can pretty much count on a mushroom cloud rising over a city. The only problem is that we don't know which…"

"…city that's going to be…" Meg finished. "Joanna, you know how high my husband's clearance is?"

"His is a top-secret clearance. As an O-6 he'd be cleared for this."

"Get him in here…now, Joanna." Meg said, her own voice shaking… "I need him to hear this."


End file.
